Curious Traveler
by belgian quaffle
Summary: Textbook Middle Child. Gluten Enthusiast. I document my adventures travelling and eating in a food blog for the Daily Prophet. A story about finding yourself and finding lost love
1. Chapter 1

**_Always Appreciate the Finer Things: Good Alcohol, A Meal that Someone Else Buys, and Time With Family (Even if They're Just Giving You Shit)_**

_The end of August has always been a time for new beginnings for my family. The start of a Quidditch season. A fresh year at Hogwarts. A new season of planting, if you're my dyeda and baba._

_My mum never allowed us to wallow in the past. She's one of those "new year, new me; the past is the past; cry me a river, build me a bridge, and get over it" types of people. (Nature over nurture, for those of you who've met said dyeda and baba)._

_In this case, though, it's fostered a great relationship between me and early fall. I love the crispness in the air. The changing of colors. The tangible feeling of that new beginning._

_It's been harder to feel since leaving Hogwarts. There's not that same excitement of going back and seeing friends you haven't seen. Of knowing Gryffindor was going to beat Slytherin (suck it Geno, still got the Cup). Looking forward to Hogsmeade dates._

_To roll squad deep with your friends after Hogwarts you have to make an actual effort and put dates on your calendars so people don't forget and find a location that's central to everyone with good food that everyone likes and drinks that no one will complain about._

_Adulthood is hard, kids. Stay young while you can._

_This new brewery has me pretty pumped. Ganged Fermanium Brewery has all the apps you can dream of, is allergy friendly for your gluten-sensitive and "gluten-sensitive" friends, and isn't super budget-unfriendly. The drink menu is filled with the craft beers of my dreams, the whiskeys of my brother's, and plenty of elf-made wine for all my winos out there._

_Located in the old Leaky Cauldron, it's easily accessible from Muggle or Wizarding London. Stop by sometime and check it out!_

* * *

"You _ruined_ The Leaky Cauldron," Victoriya rolls her eyes at her dad's statement as he looks up at the building in front of them. Ganged Fermanium had done a big remodel since taking the building over and while she was sure it still looked to be a dingy pub with little appeal to enter to the Muggles, wizards could see all the industrial-esque decor through the wide windows in front.

"I didn't ruin anything!" She exchanges a look with her sister. Malina is fighting back a laugh, burying it into her hands. "It was here before I wrote about it; I wouldn't have changed anything!"

Her dad shakes his head. "Not just you. Your whole generation,"

"Here we go," Malina grumbles.

"Get a real job after school, Mal," Victoriya recommends. "Like Geno. Much less painful for you,"

"I don't actually think either one of you has a real job," Her younger sister snickers, following their parents through the door. "You _eat_ for a living and Geno throws a ball,"

"Quidditch is hard work," Their dad butts in, hearing his youngest daughter's argument.

"Of course, you're going to say that!" Vic laughs. "Biased much?"

Her dad smiles. Viktor Krum held multiple records within different leagues throughout the continent and internationally, and Vic joked constantly that he favored her brother, who'd also gone pro after graduating, over her. "I'm proud of all my children,"

"Even the one that's killing print media and journalism?" Malina's eyes light up. Vic should have known that was coming; it's another one of his favorite jokes-she _thinks_ it's a joke, he _does_ make it an awful lot- and her entire family has picked up on it.

"Thanks for the _help_, Mal!" Victoriya huffs.

Her dad slings an arm around both their shoulders, grinning as they move to follow the hostess into the dining area. "Even her,"

"I'm not killing journalism!" Victoriya argues, sitting next to her mother. Her mum will protect her, side with her. "I'm progressing it, thank you _very_ much!"

"I don't see why you can't write this _blog_," Her mother's Russian accent makes the word come out the same way Vic says _brussel sprouts_ or _potions_. Or maybe that's actually how she feels about electronics, Vic honestly can't tell. "In the paper. For everyone to read."

"That's literally the _opposite_ of its purpose," Vic fights the urge to rip her hair out, despite having this discussion with both her parents multiple times. "The blog is online only _on purpose_!"

"That seems silly," Her mum shakes her head. "Why go online, when you have the paper?"

"Who even gets a paper anymore?" Malina snickers. "It's all online,"

"See?" Her father shrugs, like his point's been proven. "Killing print media,"

Blessedly their waitress arrives at this moment and takes their drink orders. Victoriya orders one of her favorite wheat beers and cringes when her dad orders his basic Firewhiskey. "Ugh,"

Her dad just grins. "Don't knock a classic."

"There are just such better things,"

"You kids have just been spoiled," He says. "With all these choices. You don't know how to appreciate the simple things,"

"We know how to appreciate things that don't taste like shit," Malina laughs.

"Sorry, what was that, from the 15 year old?" Her dad raises an eyebrow and Malina backs down.

"I was talking about avocado toast. Isn't that what we were talking about? Things better than the original?" She blinks innocently.

"You ruined my bar; don't ruin my drink too!" Her dad says, looking between the two of them.

"Your bar, print media, your drink," Vic lists. "What else am I going to ruin?"

Her dad grins cheerfully. "Only time will tell!"

* * *

_About the Blogger_

_Victoriya Krum is a twenty-something year old paying far too much rent to live with her three best friends in a flat in London. Her hobbies including online shopping for things she can't afford, drinking coffee in mass quantities, chirping her older brother, and eating. She has been told her sense of humor is "acquired" but she continues to make jokes anyway._

_Please send all pictures of food or restaurant recommendations to her work email, as she refuses to pay the 5 knuts for the extra 1k of cloud storage on her phone._

* * *

**A/N: **ahhh hello! credits to a fabulous beer (rip) for this lovely title. thanks to the ineke and paula the lovelies for running a wondeful challenge at hpft and inspiring this whole thing. the first few chapters (at least two and maybe three) chapters are for their challenge!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Always Evaluate the Quality of the Food and the Company When Attending an Event**_

_I am well versed in fancy food. Talk to me about gourmet meals all day and I am HERE for it. There are literally only two foods in the world that I absolutely won't eat and one of them I'm allergic to._

_But Single Sickle Sticks- I'm getting hungry just thinking about them._

_For those of you who've never been to a Quidditch game at one of the British and Irish League stadiums, they serve this delicious piece of greasy meat on a stick. It's fried, usually wrapped in a bun, and probably the absolute worst thing for you in the world._

_And a few times a year, they sell them for ONE SICKLE EACH._

_That's right, folks. That was not a misprint. One. Sickle. Each._

_As you can imagine, these games are very popular amongst people my age. But with ticket prices what they are, who can afford to go to a game AND eat when it's NOT a Single Sickle Stick day?_

* * *

"You bought _eight_ sticks?" Victoriya fights back a laugh at the disbelief on Ginny Potter's face as she and Albus return to the box from their trip down to the concourse.

There'd been zero doubt they would go for Sickle Sticks. That they even made it as long as they did was surprising.

"Technically," Her best friend shoves her forward so they can both take their seats again and looks up at his mum in the row behind them. "We bought sixteen."

"It's possible you have a problem." Victoriya turns back to look at her own mother. Sitting next to Ginny, the two mothers have supportive mum down to a tee, each wearing their oldest son's Quidditch jersey and a bright smile.

"No!" Vic shakes her head. "You can never have too many."

"We're going out for dinner after this," Her dad calls from down the row. He's sitting off with Al's dad, over in the corner they banish themselves to whenever their sons play so they don't have to listen to the rest of their families talk so much during the game.

"Sure, but that could be hours from now!" Vic cheers as her brother scores, nudges Al as he boo's (rather appropriately as he's routing for James and the other team, but that's not the point). "Don't be rude!" She chides.

"Ehh fuck the Prides!" Al grins.

"Grey's not your color," Vic chirps back, about his Falcons jersey. "Washes you out."

"How dare you?" Al gasps. "Just for that-" He grabs one of her hot dog sticks. "This is mine now!"

"Hey! Give it BACK!" She reaches for it, shoving herself further in Al's space as he merely pulls it farther away from her.

"Children," Ginny sighs.

"Sorry, mum,"

"Sorry, Mrs. Potter." Vic reluctantly shifts back into her own seat. "Al, you asshole, you owe me a sickle."

"Screw that," Al scoffs. "My boyfriend doesn't play professional Quidditch. Make him buy you one!"

"Ok, one- your boyfriend has _plenty_ of money, hashtag inheritance," Vic whines. "And two- he's not my boyfriend. Your argument is null."

"Boyfriend?" Unsurprisingly, her mother perks up. "What boyfriend?"

"Al's boyfriend," Vic tries smoothly. "Scorpius' family loves him enough to set him up a trust fund, more than either Al or I can say,"

"Yeah," Al nods, adding absolutely nothing of substance to her point. "What she said,"

Harry jumps in with a grin. "But the value of hard work? Priceless!"

"Nice try with the cover up," Victoriya scowls at the look on her dad's face. "But let's move away from Al's pretty boy boyfriend and back to the _real _issue at hand here. What uh, what's this about a boyfriend?"

"Ugh, he's totally not my boyfriend," Vic complains, loud enough to be heard over Al's protest that Scorpius is _not_ that pretty and that they shouldn't encourage this train of thought. "We're just talking,"

She wants to laugh at the instant disappointment that falls over her mother's face and the annoyed glare her dad sends her. "Talking," He repeats flatly. Al fights back a laugh as she nods. "I fucking give up with you kids. What does that even mean?"

"You know," She shrugs. "Keeping it casual. Just hanging out,"

Her mum frowns even deeper. "Why can't you just date him then?"

"Well I'm not really sure if I like him enough to date him."

"Dating is how you find out if you like someone!" Her dad cries.

"No no, you talk and hang out for a bit _first_ and then you actually start dating," Vic corrects. Merlin, they have been over this _so_ many times recently.

"You can always just ghost out of there if you really don't like him," Al nods in agreement.

"I try to give at least something," Vic says. "It feels rude otherwise. But dire situations can call for dire times, so..."

"I am never getting grandchildren," Her mother huffs.

Victoriya hesitates, looking at the family of her ex-boyfriend sitting around them. "Eh, maybe not the best crew to commiserate that with."

"Who better?" Her mother returns, staring her dead in the eye as Ginny laughs, which, fair.

"I'm going to adopt lots of dogs," Vic announces, avoiding that statement entirely. "And live on the beach,"

Her mum looks down the row to her dad. "We've moved from unwilling to keep a man to spinster."

Her dad shrugs. "Unsurprising since she won't go on a date with anyone,"

"Look the Snitch," Vic points bitchily, annoyed this discussion is still happening.

"Saw it ages ago," Her dad responds.

"Think they're just trying to rack up points," Harry adds. "See, they're circling; this might go on for a while."

"Another drink then?" Victoriya requests, from literally anyone within reaching distance from the cooler because discussions about her dating life are worth at least five more Single Sickle Sticks and she's not about to go wait in that line again.

But beer will do.

* * *

_All in all, the day was a success. A day with a Prides win is always a good day but all the Single Sickle Sticks I could imagine made it even better. You can check out the pictures from today below including the great Albus Potter spilling ketchup on himself as he loses his shit during the Snitch catch and our giant pile of food because best friends are the greatest._

_Love you too, Al; remember this next time you try and steal a hot dog stick from me._

* * *

**A/N: **shoutout to my wonderful penpal at HPFT poppunkpadfoot for looking over chapters 1 and 2 of this. you da bomb!


	3. Chapter 3

**_Brews and Burgers Make the Perfect Addition to Any Shopping Day_**

_Sometimes I make my brother pretend to be a tourist with me in the city he's lived in for nine years now._

_Geno's a classic oldest child-the perfect, overachieving DJ to my forgotten-about Stephanie, for all of you who are caught up on the classic Muggle tv show-and like he excels at most things, he is PHENOMENAL at making excuses for why he doesn't go look around the city he calls home._

_Really, the only thing he doesn't excel in is saying no to my sister and I, which is how I turn "Let's go out and grab some lunch," into "After lunch, I want to go see Kelvingrove and then go shopping,"_

* * *

"Could you like, throw a side of vegetables in there at least?" Geno's judgmental face is one of Victoriya's favorite things about her brother and teasing out the perfect one that's a combination of annoyance and amusement with no anger has taken her many years to get right.

"Alright, James," She replies snarkily.

Geno scowls, while Will Jones, stuck in his seemingly permanent place between the two of them in an attempt to prevent fighting, bursts into his big belly-laugh. Vic knows how hard her brother works to separate James Potter, his Team England teammate and alternate captain, from James Potter, little sister's ex-boyfriend, and her making mentions of the latter always has her brother pulling a face. It's easy to send the chirp back to her brother this way; her ex-boyfriend's penchant for healthy food and living was so widely known that her brother's response isn't entirely unexpected. "Never mind, enjoy your artery clogging meal in peace,"

Victoriya laughs all the same. "Is this all I have to do to get you to shut up now? Bring up James? Is this going to be a thing now?"

"No, fuck off,"

"Seems to work to me,"Will grins. Bless her favorite Australian.

"You hate him too!" Geno accuses. Vic looks over at Will, watches the look exchanged between her brother and one of his best friends, a guy she considers to be as good as an older brother.

"I don't hate him," Will says after a minute, finally meeting Victoriya's eyes. "I don't like him really, but I don't hate him. Hate the boys you've dated since then much more,"

"Hey!" She cries and he starts to laugh, not even flinching when she reaches out and punches him. "Jerk,"

Will grins. "Gotta look out for you," He looks over at Geno, who nods very seriously.

"Ridiculous," It's always going to irk her, just how protective they are and how far they take it (absolutely nothing is worse than Geno's stupid boyfriend grading scale), but she can't deny she's not touched by their constant support. "How am I ever supposed to find a boyfriend when you two take that stance?"

Geno nods enthusiastically. "Exactly,"

Vic frowns. "Will'll back me up; he wants my happiness," She flutters her eyelashes at him and reaches out to tap her fingers against his wrist. "Right?"

"Oh, stop it," Geno rolls his eyes and Vic fights back a grin as Will starts playing along in their favorite game.

"Stop what?" She asks innocently, as Will tangles his fingers with hers loosely, drawing patterns on her hand.

"I can see the headlines now," Geno frowns; it only serves to make Victoriya ramp up her flirtatious gestures, moving on to rubbing Will's bicep lightly. "Jones dating Krum's sister, tension high in locker room,"

"Better than Jones, Krum, Brunette have threesome," Will grins, which had been an _actual headline_ after they'd gone out for dinner after a game one night thanks to some douche who didn't bother to fact check his fake news.

Vic cracks up. Will begins laughing along with her; he loves when he manages to make someone laugh that hard. "You're not helping," Geno says flatly.

Will shrugs. "Lighten up, G; you need to relax. Go see James Potter and learn to meditate,"

Even Geno joins in the laughter this time and Victoriya feels like the smile on her face is threatening to split the entire thing in half, she's laughing so hard.

"Another round?" Their waitress, capitalizing on their happy mood, drops into the edge of the table and smiles at Geno. Vic grins over at Will; this isn't exactly an uncommon occurrence.

"Why not?" Geno shrugs and Vic can't help but let her jaw drop because this is. Geno's barely just behind James in the healthy eating department in season- he loves good food as much as she does but usually tries to keep himself eating well (despite his high calorie diet) during the season because he knows it's better for him. A second beer at lunch on a weekday is practically unheard of. "You want to try Belgian Quaffle this time?"

"Ohh yeah!" She grins. A treat indeed. The belgian tripel was high in alcohol content; she didn't think he'd be willing to go for that as a second one.

The scoff from next to Geno is audible and all three of them turn to see a man around their father's age pulling a face. "Excuse me?"

"This is why I can't get a damn Squabs Lite for less than 5 sickles! You millennials are ruining great wizarding beer with all your craft shit!" He storms off in a huff.

"Good fucking riddance," Geno mutters.

"Seriously," Will agrees. "In what universe is Squabs Lite considered "great beer"?"

* * *

_Merlin bless days off in the Quidditch season because we ended up eating far too much to want to do any walking after that. Instead, we enjoyed our day filled with food and a couple brews, and I got the fairly rare chance to just catch up with my brother in the middle of the season._

_And I made him take me shopping the next day after practice. Ya girl needs a new tote bag._

* * *

**A/N: **annd chapter three! i don't own full house, which is referenced in this early on. bit more info here than the last two! thanks for reading


	4. Chapter 4

_**Ireland and the Three Crushes that Will Have my Bulgarian Citezenship Revoked**_

_We have a bitter rival in our house and it's name is Ireland._

_No, I'm not talking about Irelend Maude, the supermodel (but while we're on the subject ireland, my brother is single!). I'm talking about the country._

_The mere utterance of the word in our house is, to this day, met with scowls, growls, and a select few four letter words._

_In fact, you'll get that same reaction from any Bulgarian. We hold a strong grudge from that '94 World Cup- my parents' and grandparents' generations in particular, since they were actually alive for what they refer to as..._

_Well, there's no actual Englsh word that my editor at the Prophet will approve. Use your imagination, yeah?_

_This Irish discrimination expands to anything and everything Irish you can imagine-we were straight up not allowed to eat certain brands of food when Dad was transferred to Kenmore-and yes, that includes people. _

_As I grew up in Great Britain (and went to Hogwarts with many many Irish), my siblings and I lack the same...passionate dislike that my countrymen tend to share for all things Irish. _

_Aka, yes, I will be disowned in three months when my dad does his quarterly read-through of this blog. On that note: the crushes that will have my citizenship revoked._

_**3\. Conn Kerrane**_

_Listen if you're still snoozing on a Muggle television, you (clap) are (clap) missing (clap) out. Reality tv is the shit show that will make you feel better about yourself at your absolute worst. Muggle football is the excitement you needed in your life when Quidditch is on break. Even golf is worth watching, if solely for Conn Kerrane, the absolute fittest man I've ever seen._

_That's right, I said it. Power through that snooze fest, ladies and gents, for this man, and this man alone. The view is just as good from behind as it is in front._

_The best thing to happen to golf. The only thing that makes it worth watching._

_**2\. Logan O'Malley**_

_Kids these days may have Alfie O'Shannon but he's nothing on Logan O'Malley, the OG hearthrob. That hair. That smile. Those freckles. _

_His dreamy voice as it belts on about you being his dream girl, on his team, girl, holding you up in the highest esteem, girl. Who could not want a man like this? He is the dream. The dream _boat_, that is._

_Which brings us down to..._

_**1.**_

* * *

"Ryan Lynch!" Al cries excitedly. "You came all this way just for me!"

"Fuck you!" Vic shoves his shoulder out of the way to climb out of the booth. "He came here for me, asshole!"

"It's _my _birthday!"

"Yeah, but she's the one putting out," The interruption comes from Rose Weasley, one of Vic and Al's roommates, seated a bit further inside the table.

"Not tonight," Ryan jokes. "Curfew," Ireland play Belgium in their final match of the group stage for the Euro Cup tomorrow, with a win needed to advance past. Victoriya had been a bit surprised when he'd asked her if her friends were still planning on getting together that night, sure that he'd rather be in his room preparing or with his teammates.

"Damn," Rose pulls a face. "You came all this way to score brownie points celebrating Al's birthday and you're not even going to get lucky for it?"

The whole table laughs and Ryan's still chuckling as he responds, "I should correct this notion of "all this way" since we're staying at a hotel around the corner before tomorrow's match,"

Rose, whose bluntness has been much appreciated by all her instructors so far in her internship at St. Mungo's but was occasionally less so by her closest friends and even less so by _their_ friends, snorts. "You should have kept that to yourself and just let us be wildly impressed by you."

Ryan hesitates and looks over at Vic, who laughs. "Come on. Let's get me a new drink."

She reminds herself that his eagerness is one of the things she _likes_ about him, as they stand at the bar and he apologizes repeatedly through her beer, his water, and their entire conversation, for not being able to stay longer. "Stop apologizing!" Vic rolls her eyes, unable to hold it in any longer, when Ryan makes one immediately after saying he has to actually leave now.

"Sorry," She winces, then glares when he opens his mouth to apologize again. "I'll-yeah, I'll just head out now." He leans forward and presses a kiss to her cheek. "We'll catch up later?"

Vic plasters a smile on her face, unable to fight the feeling of disappointment inside her. "Sure, sounds good," He heads out with one more wave from her and she takes her drink back to her friends, slipping in next to Rose and Adrienne Lindsay, their last roommate.

"A cheek kiss." Adri says, sounding as unimpressed as Vic feels.

"Am I wrong to be disappointed?" Victoriya asks. "I mean, I know it couldn't go anywhere tonight, but..." She shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "I feel like I'm being let down easy, except I know he wants to see me again."

"Um no," Rose shakes her head. "You've been out together _plenty_. Unexcusable."

"Ok, _unexcusable _seems a bit much." Adri says. "Maybe he's nervous about the game tomorrow; he's got a lot of expectations to live up to, home turf and all. I'm more in the camp of "_yeah I'd be disappointed too; maybe it's time to have a conversation about this shit_.""

Vic is saved from having to respond to this idea (which is probably the right one, despite her reluctance to do anything remotely like it) from Al pulling his drunk, giggly face out of Scorpius' neck to let out a drunken, giggly squeal of "James!"

Her heart jumps for a moment before settling back down and she turns with the rest of the table to see her ex-boyfriend clearing his way through the crowd, closely followed by his best friend and Falcons teammate, Brandon Wheeler-the star American Chaser credited with bringing the spotlight to Quidditch in the states.

But despite all his work getting Quidditch on the map in America, there was still a certain anonymity he enjoyed there that he didn't get when he was anywhere in Britain. He'd played in the friendly with the rest of America against England, a sort of practice match for England prior to the Euro Cup a week before it actually began, and then stuck around for a few Falcons media events, but Victoriya knows from previous experience that he's got a long vacation in the works planned to start likely within the next day or so.

Vic joins in the table's chant of "England! England!" and Brandon grins good-naturedly before he flips them all off, swiping the beer right from Al's hands. "Hey!" Al cries. "Fuck off, Wheels! It's my birthday!"

"Should have thought of that before you started antagonizing the loser." James chirps his brother and he slides into the booth right next to Vic. He nudges her side gently. "Hey Tor,"

She grins over at him, offering him her glass. "Beer?"

He looks at her skeptically. "I can tell this isn't Gluten Tag by the color."

She laughs. That is wholly unsurprising, considering it's the only beer that lives up to both his high standards and passes his test for taste. It might be the most unhealthy thing he allows himself to have on a semi-regular basis (because there's certainly nothing regular about how often he drinks, special occasions only, his body is a _temple_ and she still snickers out a laugh every time he says that). "Why on _earth_ would I deprive myself in such a way?" She has (reluctantly) admitted that Gluten Tag is a decent beer, despite it lacking a key ingredient for what makes a good beer, but its lack of gluten will never let it be a great one. Certainly not one she's reaching for when she's got the option...which she always does.

He eyes her. "You shouldn't drink that shit."

She pushes her beer closer to his nose, holding it there. "Glu-ten" She repeats robotically. "GLU-TEN."

"Stop!" He laughs, pushing her drink away.

A bit sloshes over the side as he shoves it back toward her and she gasps dramatically, covering the top of the glass. "Spillage!"

James snorts. "Yeah, like that's going to do anything,"

"Alcohol-waster!"

"Alcohol-was_ted_!" He jokes, looking around hopefully to see if anyone was going to laugh, but they're all discussing whether Italy will beat Sweden tomorrow-the winner of whom England will play early in the next week once group play ended and knockout play began.

Vic fights her laugh back. "Lame."

James grins- it's kind of sideways and almost smirk-like-and Vic recognizes that grin for sure. "I'll buy you a new one." He promises.

"You'd better," She says, thinking she recognizes her own grin as well.

* * *

_Related to this blog entry: now accepting applications for families looking to adopt a semi-functional adult for holiday dinners. Will bring any food asked and jokes of questionable quality._

* * *

**A/N: **...wow has it been that long? (hides in corner). i certainly didn't mean for it to be. hopefully it won't be this long until the next one (makes no promises) but i mean it cant be worse that this right (famous last words sar lolll).

anyway, hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

**_Change is the Only Constant So Live It Up While You Can_**

_There's a line in a song I think about a lot anytime we go out to celebrate something. It's by this Muggle artist an ex-boyfriend of mine likes and he's pretty terrible (to tolerate musically, that is; as a human, he seems like a pretty decent guy). But unless you like slow jam after slow jam and unnecessary guitar solos dragging out your songs, Dave Matthews is not the artist for you._

_Regardless, there's a line he sings that comes to mind every time we go celebrate, and with England playing the way they have recently, there's been much to enjoy._

_"Celebrate we will because life is short but sweet for certain."_

_England is in a prime spot where International Quidditch is concerned for a few more years (and a good few more than that, if my brother's got anything to say about it, which if you ask him, he does), but really, the only thing for certain is that nothing is for certain. Even the things you think are forever can change in an instant._

* * *

The beat drops and Vic shimmies her shoulders obnoxiously at Rose in front of her, who immediately cracks up. Vic does a little twirl with the next drop and turns back around to find Rose crouched down low, still laughing. "I'm going to find Al,"

"No wait," Rose says dryly, but Vic turns anyway, and it's only when she's at the edge of the crowd that she realizes her best friend's tone and looks back into the crowd of England supporters-turned-celebrators to see that Rose has found herself a cute guy to dance with.

Well then.

It's easy to interrupt Al and Scorpius, who are back in the VIP area with some more of the team's friends and family, tucked away in a corner. She shoves her way in next to them, and picks up Al's beer to drain it (or at least, what she thinks is Al's beer; it's been a quite a long night since England won the final for the Euro Cup and the team made it back to London to celebrate).

"Oi!" Al flicks the cap off her head and Vic gasps.

"My hat!" She hastens to grab it before it falls to the floor and Al snorts. He has no time for her superstitions. In fact, both Potter brothers have a strong side-eye for Vic and Geno's religious game day routines that'd been ingrained in them from their father from a young age, but that doesn't change the fact that England hadn't lost an international match since Vic had started wearing _this _jersey and hat combination, so _take that_, James and Al.

She settles the England Quidditch hat back on her head, confident enough in the status of celebration (and level of drunkenness) to turn it backwards.

And then, despite the glares from her best friend and his boyfriend, she grabs yet another beer off the table and makes herself comfortable with them, content to sit, chat, and people-watch around them until Al is clearly annoyed with her continued talking (Scorpius is far too nice to say anything), which is when she finally stands and makes her way to their private bar to get a new drink.

The party is still in full force around them, though it's rather unsurprising. England had gone years without any international Quidditch clout but the emergence of stars such as her brother and James had led to an attitude across the nation that felt more like "gold or bust." As long as the team came home with a win, everyone was happy.

The VIP area bartender is flirting with England's keeper over at the other end of the bar, but honestly, Tessa Evans stood on her head in this tourney; she deserves this and so much more, so Vic is willing to wait her turn if it means Tessa may get lucky tonight.

An arm drops onto her shoulder and despite how heavy and sweaty it is, its presence (or more, the presence of its owner) makes the wait for the bartender a bit nicer. "Tori!"

James is..._so drunk_. Vic can't help it; she's already grinning, and it only spreads wider as she leans into him. "Where'd you come from?" She asks, because he'd managed to surprise her.

"Left your brother over there," He nods his head toward the corner she'd seen him in earlier in the night (talking with freaking _Ireland Maude_, whose blog is useless now, everyone; she's going to be _so smug_ if this pans out).

That...half-answers her question, because last she looked, he'd been taking shots with his beaters on the opposite end of the bar, before disappearing into the crowd.

And she'd _been _looking.

Of course, she hadn't been the only one looking. His eyes had been on her all night and each time she'd find herself sneaking a peek over at him, he'd already been looking back and sending her a quick smile.

Up close isn't any different. Despite (or maybe, in spite) of the heat, she can only feel herself moving closer. James' hand moves lower, sliding down over the jersey she'd stolen from her brother years ago in their first World Cup run, and Vic can't hide the shiver as his palm runs over her last name and her brother's famous number "44."

James' eyes, she's sure are blown wide but it's hard to actually tell in the dark, haven't left her hat, where _his number_, a bold "12" cross-stitched in scarlet thread, sits just to the right of the center of her forehead, ever since she dared turn her hat around.

She shimmies her shoulders against him with the song change, catching the groan he fights back as she does, and grins up at him. "Shots?"

"Tor." He groans again, and she giggles. This day is _so_ off his diet, she can already hear the complaints about it tomorrow. She'd certainly heard about them the morning after Al's birthday and he hadn't let himself go _nearly_ this much.

But then, there hadn't been quite so much to celebrate.

"Potato vodka is _technically_ a vegetable."

On any other day, there'd be an argument from him about this- what a stupid concept that was, how technically untrue it was, literally anything. That he merely grins even wider down at her says everything she needs to know.

"Hey guys," The bartender has finally torn herself away from Tessa, but Vic sneaks a peak over, and from the way the blonde still looks fairly mind blown, it's pretty clear that they may not be sticking around for too much longer. "What can I get you?"

James looks down at her and Vic meets his gaze, so it's not really surprising to hear him say, "I'm just looking to close out, thanks."

The bartender looks a little grateful, exchanging money with James, but she's stopped by the arrival of another VIP before she can make her move back across the bar. Craig Wright, England Quidditch's President of Operations, is beaming as he claps James on the shoulder, offering all kinds of congratulations.

There's no hiding how drunk he is (although, Vic's pretty certain Wright operates under the same "work hard, play hard" mantra that most of the Quidditch front office guys seem to and he won't care a bit), so James merely sticks his hand right out for his boss to shake, returning the excitement.

Wright's gone to bat for James many a time, sticking up for the initial decision to call him up, as well as a few times since then when some stupid decisions of his in those early days of living-large-as-a-famous-kid-with-money-to-spare had come out, and then into his transition to well-adjusted hipster. James has spoken at length about how much he appreciates his unwavering support- in interviews, in public, to people.

Vic can't say she's found the same level of support from England Quidditch. She's not at all surprised to see his eyes light up when he looks over at her, wrapped up around James...and of course, James doesn't even realize.

"Always good to see the two of you." It's totally sincere, is the thing; Wright would be happy as a clam to see Vic with James at _every_ Quidditch event...and he'd made that very clear to her. "Another round?"

"We're actually heading out." James says smoothly.

Wright smiles, but to Vic, it doesn't seem to meet his eyes. Or maybe, it does and she's projecting her own feelings out. "Enjoy your evening then." He chuckles. "Well, morning at this point."

James chuckles at the joke and Vic manages a smile before she feels herself being pulled away. "You ready?" James ducks his head a little to get to her ear.

The mood's kind of lost on her a bit; she doesn't quite feel that same heat as before. But one look in his eyes and she's pretty sure it'll spike back up again, no problem.

* * *

_The moral of the story: celebrate the victories while you can. They may not be there when you look back._

* * *

**A/N: **if you've got a minute, let me know what you thought! (also i don't own _two step_, the dave matthews song quoted in this chapter)


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